


This is why we can't have nice things

by celtic_cappucino



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Compound, Avengers Family, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Awesome Natasha Romanov, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Baking, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, How Do I Tag, I Blame Tumblr, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I feel like this is something I'd just throw on someone's desk for laughs, Inspired By Tumblr, Inspired by Real Events, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Pepperony - Freeform, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, There's A Tag For That, Tony Stark Doesn't Like Being Handed Things, Waffles, as in very minor, but like everyone's seen aou right, but what's new, canon can go eat a rug, hi my friend group is really weird, ill probably give up on this sometime, or start a new one, or take a break, this entire thing is a huge mess, yeets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-01-12 00:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18435260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic_cappucino/pseuds/celtic_cappucino
Summary: ~ ON HIATUS ~What would happen if we ignored the fact that Infinity War and Endgame existed? What if the Avengers and their friends could just live peacefully at the Compound?Kind of one shots but they're all connected in a way.Inspired by Pinterest memes, Tumblr memes I found on Pinterest, and real life events because my friend group is actually wack





	1. One: Natasha Romanoff, world's deadliest assassin, trained in the Red Room to become a human weapon, makes the world's best Belgian waffles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh. My. Goodness. Natasha!” Sam exclaimed with a mouth still full of breakfast. “This is amazing!” He pressed a hand to his temple in disbelief. Who would have known the world's most skilled assassin would make the world's best waffles.

At about 7:30 on a Sunday morning, the fragrant aroma of fresh yeasted waffles gradually drifted its way through the Compound. One by one, the unlikely super-friends dubbed the Avengers slowly made their way towards the kitchen, seeking out the source of the mouth-watering scent of warm breakfast.

The first to arrive were Bucky and Sam, racing each other down the hall to see who could get there first. However, once the person making the waffles came into view, they both stopped in their tracks. There in the middle of the kitchen, wearing a dark blue v-neck tee and jeans, topped by one of Bruce's baking aprons was none other than Natasha Romanoff.

Sam studied her for a few awkward seconds, although it was Bucky who said the first word.

“Natasha?” he asked almost skeptically, as if he didn't believe she was really standing in front of him, currently stabbing a waffle with her fork and transferring it from the iron to a separate plate.

“What are you… why… waffles? Who… when… how?” Both Avengers began quickly talking over each other, a slew of questions spilling out.

Natasha raised a hand to her lips. “Hush, my друзья (druz'ya). Don't question it,” she murmured, using the Russian word for 'friends.’ Piercing another waffle, she flipped it on to an empty plate and turned to slide it across the island towards Sam, slapping a square of butter on it and gesturing towards the syrup boat.

Sam and Bucky shook themselves from shock, taking a seat at the island. Bucky glanced dubiously at the warm breakfast in front of him, his eyes flicking towards Sam in time to watch him drown his waffle in an ocean of syrup.

“How do I know this doesn't have some unknown Russian poison?” he asked, only half joking.

“You don't,” the assassin replied, giving him one of her dangerous glares.

Another, much more tired voice piped up from the doorway. “Trust me, they don't,” it said simply, causing the pair of hungry Avengers to turn their heads and find the source of the quip. Clint shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep. Out of routine, he moved towards the coffee maker and prepared it, stepping back to sit casually on the counter once he was finished.

His dirty-blonde hair was sticking up everywhere, and his blue eyes were distant and still bleary from sleep. Rubbing his bandaged right wrist, he kicked his feet nonchalantly against the cabinets under the counter.

Natasha leaned against the counter next to Clint, twirling a fork in her hand. She studied the super-soldier and his friend, watching as Sam quickly cut his waffle into manageable sizes, soaking up some of his syrup lake with the pieces and stuffing his mouth. His eyes widened.

“Oh. My. Goodness. Natasha!” he exclaimed with a mouth still full of breakfast. “This is amazing!” He pressed a hand to his temple in disbelief. Who would have known the world's most skilled assassin would make the world's best waffles.

Bucky took a bite, savoring each mouthful. “What's in these?” he asked, eyeing the half-empty bowl of batter.

“They're yeasted Belgian waffles,” Natasha replied proudly.

Clint reached up to scratch his neck, accidentally knocking a hearing aid out of his ear. “Shi…” he began, trailing off once he spotted Steve's figure in the doorway. He ducked down quickly, retrieving the device and fixing it back to his ear like it was supposed to be. 

Steve traversed the kitchen, standing to the left of Bucky and resting his hands gently on the table. “Did you make those?” he asked Natasha, who slid a plate across the island towards him.

“No I did not,” she responded sarcastically, pouring more batter in the waffle iron. “I did not and am not currently making these waffles right in front of you.”

Clint opened the silverware drawer (which he happened to be sitting on top of) and yeeted a fork across the room at Steve, who was about to get stabbed in the eye before Bucky raised his metal arm and snatched it out of the air.

“Clint!” Natasha turned towards him. “Not everyone’s awake yet! You can’t just go around throwing forks at people at…” she checked the microwave clock, “7:42 in the morning!” 

The man shrugged, turning to grab his coffee out of the coffee machine. He poured the drink into his mug, barely caring that he missed. Half of the coffee was pooling on the table, flowing towards the edge and dripping off the edge. “Aww, coffee…” he murmured quietly, flinging a towel down to soak up the mess.

The faint sound of something either blowing up or breaking (or both) broke the uncomfortable silence, followed by someone shouting, “aww, come on!” Everyone in the kitchen sighed.

“Does someone want to go and persuade Tony to eat?” Steve asked. “He’s been up at least since 3 working on something. As per usual.”

Bruce appeared suddenly in the kitchen, stirring his tea. “I’ve got it.” He picked up the teacup carefully, making his way downstairs. Silence overfell the Avengers, each of them listening for the conversation. Bruce was usually pretty good at handling both Tony’s late nights and his sass, and Natasha inferred that it was because they were both scientists. Tony was able to trust him because they spoke the same ‘language.’

“Tony, can you please… oh my God.” They could almost envision Bruce pinching the bridge of his nose, probably surveying the charred lab in front of him.

“Bruce, it’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be able to clean it up, just relax. FRIDAY, what went wrong that time?”

The AI’s voice responded, obviously done with Tony at this point. “Sir, listen to Dr. Banner please. You’ll be able to finish working on this once you’ve got a clear head.”

“Fine. But I swear, it couldn’t have been the nanotech. Was it the nanotech? It was the repulsors, wasn’t it?”

“Tony… Nat made breakfast. Let’s go get something.”

Silence for a few moments.

“Nat? As in Natasha Romanoff, world’s deadliest assassin? Are we talking about the same Natasha here?”

“Yes,” Bruce replied, exasperated.

“Aight, I’ll be up a sec.”

“Tony, now.”

“Fine.”

About a minute later, Bruce reappeared, sipping his tea, with a dishevelled Tony behind him. It was a usual sight at this point, Tony wearing safety glasses with his dark hair sticking up everywhere, a grease stain here or there, and a small burn mark on his wrist.

“Wow,” he said finally, glancing around the room. Clint handed him a waffle before he could say anything else. He took a seat at the opposite end of the island from Steve.

“What are you working on now?” Steve asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Tony tensed just the slightest bit. Nobody noticed except Natasha, who had known it was coming. After the events of the civil war, Tony had welcomed them back to the Compound with more or less open arms. However, the two had yet to warm up to each other again. The rest of the Avengers had quickly admitted responsible for their actions, as had Steve after some persuasion, and it had mostly sorted itself out. Tony worked out the misunderstanding of Bucky’s past, but Steve had been difficult. Tony had tried his best to edit the Sokovia Accords so that everyone agreed, eventually cutting them down to the point where they were nearly essentially useless. It created long nights of work, stress, anger, anxiety, and Tony hadn't been quite ready to forgive him for that. They were trying their best to make up for everything that had happened.

“I’m… just trying to improve the repulsors on the Mark 51,” he responded eventually, rubbing his slightly burnt wrist, not trying to indicate any pain. “Trying to make them more efficient. They locked up and resisted a little on our last mission.”

Glancing around the room, Tony studied everyone. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Bruce… “Where are Wanda and Vis at? FRI?”

FRIDAY’s accented voice came over a speaker in the kitchen. “Ms. Maximoff is doing her hair right now. Vision is on his way down.” Tony nodded, taking another bite of his waffle.

Approximately 3 more minutes of nobody talking followed, the only sounds of people scraping their forks and knives on the plates.

Clint just barely caught himself from falling off the counter, then regained his balance and downed the rest of his coffee. “Guess I should actually be productive for once, huh?” he mused, setting the mug down in the sink. “I'll grab groceries. Maybe it would be a decent idea to change out of pajamas first, however.”


	2. Two: The Avengers, full-grown adults, play floor is lava. It would be advised not to play floor is lava with a bunch of children in a superhuman's body as it gets very competitive. Also someone returns.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The floor is lava,” the assassin casually mused, tapping the screen and leaping onto the marble island table. A hologram of piping hot magma replaced the polished stone floor. The room turned into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been like 8 years since I've had enough motivation to actually write this, I'm sorry I'll try to be better sksksk
> 
> Also I'm all in for short Tony @marvel
> 
> [WARNING: THE END OF THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES A TINY CAPTAIN MARVEL SPOILER] (It isn't a major spoiler, so if you haven't seen the movie it's probably ok)
> 
> I'm @a.bucket.full.of.stars on Instagram!

On Monday, everything started just the same as what typically happened on weekdays. Tony was the first to wake up (or last to go to sleep, depending on how you looked at it), then was eventually joined by whoever dragged their sorry butt out of bed next, usually Natasha, Bucky, or Sam. 

Clint and Bruce were known for being the latest sleepers, and sometimes the others would place harmless bets on who they thought would get up last. (Steve once had to wash all the dishes for a week because of this)

Today, Tony was at the island fiddling with a small gadget, surrounded by hologram screens and steaming coffee in a mug to the left of his work. Bucky nodded a small ‘hello’ to him and went straight for the refrigerator to search for eggs. He cracked them into a pan, scrambling them and adding small amounts of milk and cheese. Sam appeared suddenly behind him, holding a finger to his lips as Tony opened his mouth to greet him. 

The Falcon took his fingers and ‘tazed’ the super-soldier, only to end up with his back pressed against the wall and a pocket knife at his neck. After recognizing his attacker, Bucky relaxed but kept his metal arm extended - holding the knife - towards Sam. A little shaken, Sam held up his hands in surrender and Bucky dropped his hand, flipping the knife casually and catching it again before closing and pocketing the weapon. Tony dismissed the exchange; weirder things had happened in his presence.

Slowly, the other Avengers gathered in the kitchen and made their own breakfast, typically eggs, toast, cereal, or whatever they could find in the fridge. However, this sometimes lead to someone not giving a care and taking the leftover ground beef, reheating it, and slapping it onto a plate while everyone else looked on in horror. One time Clint attempted to make a pizza smoothie with ketchup as the liquid, but was unsuccessful as Tony shut off the power just in time. (He may or may not have been high on painkillers)

Clint appeared in the kitchen next, leaving Natasha to silently cheer and pump her fist in the air. Steve had a disappointed look while he handed her a five-dollar bill. A mere thirty seconds afterwards Bruce did appear, to Steve’s dismay. Neither of the two late-sleepers knew about the bets, and it was better if they kept it that way.

Tony handed Natasha the device he’d been working on, which appeared to be a miniature gray remote with a screen, somewhat resembling a phone, but smaller.

“The floor is lava,” the assassin casually mused, tapping the screen and leaping onto the marble island table. A hologram of piping hot magma replaced the polished stone floor. The room turned into chaos. Clint screeched and threw himself onto the couch, knocking a very confused Steve over onto the ground. Coulson came into the room, hopping from rug to rug, depositing a folder on the table in front of Tony, who was perched on an island stool, and left just the same way he’d came in.

Bucky, who had been studying memes and millenial/Gen Z culture, jumped from the floor to kitchen counter, steadying himself before watching the chaos unfold. Steve had stood himself back up and was standing in confusion until Sam tackled him onto the couch, fighting Clint to try and make more room. Wanda and Vision simply levitated a few feet off the ground. Bruce looked on in confusion, until he took note of his teammates and awkwardly took one step to the left so he was on a rug.

As much as he had tried to balance, there was barely any room for Bucky to fit on the counter, and he dropped to the floor. Eventually giving up, he laid on his back and shouted “Just take me!” Of course, Maria Hill took that exact opportunity to walk into the kitchen. She observed the hologram on the floor, then her steel-blue eyes scanned the room and took note of the adults playing a children’s game.

She sighed, fed up with their antics at this point. “Are you sure that playing this game is helping you be seen as professional?” she asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m almost convinced you guys never graduated kindergarten.”

“Brave words for someone standing in lava,” Clint replied, attempting to shove Sam onto the floor. Sam slipped and caught himself on the coffee table, inches away from touching the ground. He pulled himself onto the low platform, balancing, and decided the coffee table was better than fighting over a couch.

Maria rolled her eyes and spun on her heel, turning to exit the room. The further away from these people, the better. “Just be glad Nick’s on the Helicarrier,” she mused, only loud enough for them to hear her. Natasha took the opportunity to tap the screen again, toggling the hologram off.

Everyone in the room relaxed, returning to the floor.

Tony looked up. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint groaned, rubbing his side. “Sam was crushing my spleen.”

“I don’t even know where your spleen is!”

Vision retreated to the floor and approached them. “Your spleen is an internal organ to the left of your stomach.” He gestured to the area on his own body.

A small meow was heard coming from down the hall, and a familiar orange tabby cat trotted into the room, sporting a blue collar and a silver identification tag. “Who invited T’Challa?” Sam quipped, studying the creature. Tony suddenly watched the doorway intently.

“Goose!” Bruce’s eyes lit up as he recognized her.

Clint hurried out of the room, leaving Wanda and Steve to stare after him. “What’s his problem?” Steve asked, taking a seat at the island. Natasha glanced the direction Clint had disappeared.

“He’s going to his room to grab an epipen. Got a pretty bad cat allergy,” she replied, walking up to the cat. “Hey, Goose. Is Carol back?” Red boots with black toes appeared in the doorway.

“I dunno, is she?” Carol Danvers beamed, waving towards the Avengers. “Hey guys, it’s been a while.”

Tony stood from the stool, dashing across the room to hug her. “Too long,” he mumbled into her shoulder. Carol backed up, studying him.

“Have I gotten taller or are you just shorter than I remembered?” she joked.

“Shut up,” Tony said, the excitable demeanor almost instantly disappearing.

“You know I’m just kidding, right?”

Clint shuffled back into the kitchen, rubbing a red spot on his arm. “He’s sensitive about his height. Hey Goose, Carol.”

Turning away in a gesture of only half mock offense, Tony folded his arms across his chest. “Every time you see me you know don’t have to rub in the fact that you’re two inches taller than me, right? Because I feel like someone should make that clear.”

Carol tossed him a device, which hit him in the back of his neck before he was able to react. “More alien tech for you to play with,” she mused, knowing it would cheer him up. Tony picked it up off the floor, looking it over.

“Where’d you find this?”

The Captain crossed her arms. “I knew that’d get the old Tony back. Some Kree stuff I found while trying to overthrow the government. You know, the typical 9 to 5. I’ll let you figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I googled it Carol is 5'11" and if we're going by RDJ's height Tony is 5'8.5" I love everything


	3. Three: Yes hi I’m accepting the headcanon that Tuesday is lasagna night at the Avengers Compound.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The voiceline across the Compound crackled. Tony didn’t care that it wasn’t private. “Romanoff, you’d better come collect your Legolas.”
> 
> “Clint for God’s sake…”
> 
> Sam’s voice came over the speaker. “What’s the bird gotten into now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I rewrote this maybe 3 times so yeah enjoy

Tony tossed open the door of the Compound and was immediately hit with the aroma of something cooking. The familiar scent of Wanda’s lasagna enveloped the building in a warm blanket. It was to die for. He hesitated for a moment before heading to his lab, almost regretfully leaving Wanda to do her thing. She’d call him when dinner was ready.

“Hey FRI, do I have any messages?” he asked, his pace quickening as he walked the familiar hallways. 

The AI’s voice replied through a speaker. “You have four new messages, boss. The first two are from magazine companies. Send to spam?”

“You’ve already done it, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Atta girl.”

“You also have one from Mr. Parker and one from Mrs. Potts labeled ‘Urgent.’ Read them?”

“Yes. Pete’s first.” He continued walking, shoes clicking against the polished stone floor. A few hologram panels flanked Tony as he made his way to the lab, and he tapped absently at something on one of the screens.

“Voice message from Peter Parker, sent this afternoon at 3:37 p.m.” FRIDAY’s Irish accent was replaced by that of the teenager’s.

“H-hey uh, Mr. Stark. I- uh, just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come over for lasagna night tonight. Ned just brought home an awesome Jurassic World scene Lego set, and he’s gonna be out of town next week so we wanted to finish it before he left. Maybe we could - um - reschedule for Thursday? I know it won’t be the same as lasagna, but it’s better than skipping out. Also, I - uh - have something kinda important to tell you, if you’ll just call me back when you’ve got the chance? Thanks, bye!”

Tony brought up another panel to return the call, noticing that Peter was online. He tapped the ‘video chat’ option, turning into his lab and collapsing into a white chair, leaning back and propping his feet up on the desk.

“Hey kid,” he mused once the separate video chat box popped up, showing Peter’s slightly flustered face. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

The teenager waved awkwardly. His face was darkened and slightly blurry from the bad lighting, but Tony could make out the shape of a bunk bed and desk. “H-hi Mr. Stark. Uh… yeah. So you know how I’ve been working on a more efficient web formula?”

“That I do, Mr. Parker.”

“And you know how I wanted ideas to make it stronger?” he asked. Tony nodded, fully realizing where this was going, but wanting the kid to finish. “Well…” Peter began, only to be cut off by Ned.

“Oh my God! Are you talking to Mr. Stark?!” the enthusiastic teen shouted somewhere off-screen, amusing Tony.

“Yeah,” Peter responded. “I was just going to ask him about what I could add to the web fluid.”

“Do you have a pen?” Tony turned to walk into the lab, fiddling with a small vial on Bruce’s workstation. “I’d try adding a hexanediamine chloride and sebacoyl chloride combination. It makes a cool web effect in the first place, but it’s not nearly strong enough on its own.”

“Such big, smart words!” he heard Ned say out of view.  
The slightly muffled sound of metal against metal echoed quietly from the ceiling above. Tony thought nothing of it for a moment, turning to recline back in a white chair near his desk. Suddenly, the vents gave way and a tangle of arms, legs, and piping collapsed to the floor with an ‘oof.’

“Jesus, Barton! Holy-” he swore, both shocked and a little impressed… not that he’d ever let Clint know that.

The archer gave a smirk, grimacing. “Just thought I’d - ow - _drop by._ ” Tony could hear Peter and Ned cracking up.

“Look, I’m sorry kid, I’ve gotta tend to this asshole.” Peter hung up, but not before hearing an exasperated voice say “Oh my God, Barton, I’m calling Nat.”

The voiceline across the Compound crackled. Tony didn’t care that it wasn’t private. “Romanoff, you’d better come collect your Legolas.”

“Clint for God’s sake…”

Sam’s voice came over the speaker. “What’s the bird gotten into now?”

“Somehow he managed to climb through the vents and break them.” Tony swore he could hear laughing from every room in the Compound.

FRIDAY broadcasted through the building. “I’ve got the whole thing recorded here if you want.” If she had a face, the AI would be grinning.

“Yes _please,_ ” Bruce exclaimed, trotting into the lab to survey the damage. “Holy frick Barton, you’ve really outdone yourself.” He held a hand out to Clint, who was still laying on the ground.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been planning that,” Clint winced, accepting the gesture. Natasha walked into the lab, automatic sliding glass doors giving way to her presence.

“Idiot,” she mused, staring up at the hole her friend had created in the ventilation system. “How’d you get up there, anyway? That’s what, like a 10 foot ceiling?”

“Boss, Ms. Maximoff just informed me that dinner is almost ready,” FRIDAY spoke again.

The four made their way towards the warmly lit kitchen, where the table had already been set and Sam and Bucky were on the couch, fighting over the TV remote. Steve turned around in his chair.

“I’m actually going to put you two on time-out,” he hissed, flicking Bucky’s ear.

“DO IT! YOU WON’T!” Sam shouted, yeeting the remote towards the doorway. Tony caught it, turning the TV off.

“That was my show!” the super-soldier assassin whined, slumping off the couch and onto the rug. “I wanted to know whether they’d love it or list it…”

“Wheel of Fortune is better,” the Falcon sighed, standing up. 

FRIDAY pulled up a holoscreen in front of Tony. “Ms. Potts is willing to speak with you, Boss.”

“Ooooooh, you’re in trou-ble!” Clint taunted. Tony flipped him off.

“Yes, Pepper?” Tony answered his phone, walking into another room. The smell of Wanda’s lasagna floated down the hall, following his every footstep and soon that was the second thing on his mind. Next to the fact that Pepper was going to beat his ass.

“Anthony.” Whenever she used his full name, that was never a good sign.

“Yes dear?” He absentmindedly fidgeted with a rubber band that happened to be lying around.

“You did happen to see the possible interviews, right? FRIDAY should have sent them to you.”

Tony sighed. She was going to win either way. “Yes I did, and I sent them immediately to spam because I don’t care about magazine articles or PR at the moment.” He glanced towards the wall, noticing that a painting was slightly crooked. Tilting it the right way around, he waited for her inevitable angered response.

Almost as if Pepper could read his mind, she paused for half a moment. “Focus on me, stop fiddling with other things.”

“How could you tell I was fiddling?”

“You’re quiet for once. And it’s your involuntary anxious response.”

Silence.

“Okay.”

Apparently that one word was her cue to start chewing him out rapid-fire. “You almost never go out for these press conferences, magazine articles, PR; you’re the rep guy.” 

“Pep.”

“You’re pretty much the only person who is allowed to and able to talk to press. But you haven’t gotten your butt out there. Yes, sure, I know you said you were trying to do less PR in the past, but what about when you really need it? I’m here, trying-”

“Pepper.”

“-To help you retain the Avengers’ reputation! What’s your response to the Accords? What about the recent missions? And I-”

“Virginia.”

She stopped.

“You’re not the PR manager. The Avengers don’t have one. And it’s probably for the best. So I’m going to go and eat dinner, which Wanda has lovingly made for us and-”

Pepper walked into the room, holding her phone to her ear. Once they made eye contact, she turned it off and slipped it into her purse.

“Honestly, I just want all these people to stop emailing me.”

 

…

 

As usual, the lasagna was fantastic. Wanda kept trying to shrug it off like it was no big deal, but of course it’s not that simple if you live in the same building as the Avengers. The large table had enough space to seat everyone, and Tuesday nights were possibly the only times when they all sat with each other.

The cheesy garlic bread was seasoned just right, and even Fury came in for a moment just to grab some on his way out. However, it was cut diagonally. He refused it, somewhat politely, and Goose leapt up onto the table for her routine scratch before opening her mouth, grabbing the garlic bread, and swallowing it just like that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @equinxx._ on Instagram!!


End file.
